


It's Beginning To Feel A Lot Like Christmas

by SuperRedRobin (SweetFanfics)



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU, DCU - Comicverse
Genre: Christmas, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-08
Updated: 2012-12-24
Packaged: 2017-11-20 15:39:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 19,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/586960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetFanfics/pseuds/SuperRedRobin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>25 Christmasy fics because tis the season. All fics will be TimKon, BruceDick or Gen. Couples will be mentioned in the titles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. December 01: Hot Cocoa (BruceDick)

**Author's Note:**

> [Following this prompt list for Christmas](http://ryssabeth.tumblr.com/post/36975357975/christmas-advent-prompts)

Humming a nonsensical tune under his breath, Dick watched Alfred pour hot chocolate into the four mugs that he had placed on the counter. The scent of chocolate and spices was rich in the air, prompting Dick to think that this was definitely what winter was all about. And also that maybe he ought to help Alfred get the hot chocolate ready.  
  


Pushing himself away from the counter, Dick began to rummage around in the cabinets. “Where’d you stash the marshmallows Alfred?” He pawed through the labelled cans and cereal boxes before turning to give the man a curious look.   
  


Without taking his attention away from his task, he replied. “The cabinet to the right Master Dick.” With a grin, Dick took a step to the right and opened the door in search of marshmallows because what was hot chocolate without some fluffy, sweet marshmallows.  
  


Plucking the bag out, Dick pulled it open and quickly snuck two into his own mouth before pouring half the bag out into a deep bowl. “Would you like some whipped cream on your drink? Or some cinnamon?” Alfred’s question made him freeze guiltily, hand up to his mouth with another two pieces of sweets almost in his mouth.  
  


“err, just the marshmallows thanks.” Dick quickly put the two back into the bowl and wrapped the bag back up. He might be an adult now but that didn’t mean that one look from Alfred wouldn’t make him feel like he was 10 and had his hand in the cookie jar an hour before dinner. “But could you add a cinnamon stick to Bruce’s?”  
  


He quickly put the bag back into it’s place, figuring that if it was out of sight then he wouldn’t be tempted to eat more marshmallows. Dick picked up the bowl of marshmallows and plopped them down on the tray before checking the mugs. “Is that Bruce’s?” He inquired, pointed to the mug on the far end of the tray, cinnamon stick leaning against the side.  
  


Alfred nodded, beginning to scoop some of the whipped cream into a smaller blue mug. “Yes it is. I suppose you’re planning on taking it up to him yourself?” Dick had a hard time holding his grin back, rocking back and forth as he began to drop marshmallow after marshmallow into his own black mug.   
  


He ignored the disapproving look that Alfred gave him when his mug was half marshmallows and half chocolate. Instead, he picked up a mug in each hand before holding Bruce’s out towards Alfred. “Maybe a bit of cream? He likes that from time to time.”  
  


The butler chose not to reply, opting instead to ladle a hefty spoonful of whipped cream on top of the drink before shooing him out with a few flits of his spoon. Dick happily walked out, offering his thanks as he did so. His every inhale brought the rich smell of chocolate and cream to his lungs, a tiny bit of drool beginning to gather in his mouth as he imagined how good it was going to taste.  
  


But…Dick paused momentarily to look down at his mug and then at Bruce’s. Maybe he ought to have asked Alfred for some whipped cream too because his lover’s mug was looking pretty damn delicious. Sneaking a look around him to make sure that no one was looking, Dick took a quick sip of Bruce’s drink and closed his eyes in delight.   
  


 _‘No one makes hot cocoa like Alfred.’_ , he thought with delight, smacking his lips before he resumed his journey to Bruce’s study. Two more sips later, Dick pushed the door open with his hip while declaring, “I’ve got the hot chocolate.” Bruce looked up from the sofa, lips twitching at the corner in a way that implied that he was trying to stop his amusement from showing.   
  


Dick walked over to sit down next to him on the sofa, holding out Bruce’s mug. “What’s so funny?”  
  


“Nothing.” Bruce replied back smoothly, looking at the drink before peering into the fireplace. Dick gave his lover a long questioning stare, wondering what Bruce wasn’t telling him. But Bruce ignored the look with ease, raising his mug to take a sip before asking in a far too casual tone, “Did you enjoy my drink?”  
  


His eyes flew open in surprise, jerking back hard enough to make his drink slosh dangerously close to the edge. Dick felt his mouth fall open in a small ‘o’ of surprise. “How did you…”, he gaped in shock at Bruce.  
  


Bruce simply tapped a finger against his upper lip and smiled. “You forgot to get rid of the evidence.”


	2. December 02: Caroling with the Waynes (Batfam Gen)

Tim sighed, morosely eyeing the reindeer horns that Dick had placed in his hands, giving Damian a tired look before asking, “How’d he trick you into this?”  
  


The youngest Wayne was glaring at the bright red Rudolph nose that Dick had given him, squeezing the rubber hard. ”I’d rather not say.” Figures, Tim thought to himself with an internal sigh. Damian turned to look at him, first at the reindeer horns and then at his face before asking, “You?”  
  


“I’d rather not say.” Tim grumbled back, knowing that it was a little childish but he didn’t really feel like admitting that Dick had more or less clung to him like a static laced sock until Tim had finally caved. “No body does anything normally in this family.” He muttered under his breath, squeezing the band he was holding.  
  


Damian snorted, clearly in agreement and wasn’t that a sign that the world was sure to be coming to an end soon. They both watched Dick bounce up to Cassandra and Stephanie, handing each girl a bright green elf hat along with their book of Christmas carols. The blond immediately put her hat on, smiling as she chattered with Dick about the route that they would take and the song order.  
  


At the sound of heavy foot steps, Tim turned around to look back at the staircase. Bruce plodded down, Santa hat already on, gloves and scarf in hand. His eyes quickly went over the occupants, nodding at each of them before frowning. “Is Jason not here yet?” As Dick quickly walked up to him to adjust Bruce’s hat, Bruce directed the look at him. “I thought you said that Jason was coming with us.”  
  


Not surprised to hear that little tit bit, Tim did wonder what kind of technique Dick had used on the second Robin to get him to come. Would it be emotional black mail? Bribery? Misinformation? All of the above? He couldn’t wait for Jason to show up now. Dick paused half way between determining the proper jaunty angle for Bruce’s hat before directing a glare at him and Damian. “Antlers and nose on people! It’s almost time to go.”  
  


Exchanging another look with Damian, Tim sighed along with the boy before plopping the ears on. Given Stephanie’s not so subtle snickering and the smile on Cassandra’s face, Tim wasn’t sure who looked like the bigger fool: himself or Damian. It really was hard to tell but he might have been in the lead. Right up until Dick proclaimed, “Almost forgot!” and plopped another reindeer’s antler’s headband on Damian’s head. “Perfect!”  
  


If Damian was a cat, Tim was certain that he would have been hissing, spitting and scratching furiously at Dick and the headband. But the rumble of a bike from outside made everyone pause. “That’d be Jason!” Dick declared, beginning to usher everyone towards the front door. “Bruce, get your jacket on! Tim, Damian, move it!”  
  


With the girls leading the charge to the front door, Dick and Bruce bringing up the rear, Tim hoped that at the very least, it wouldn’t be too cold out tonight. As they all piled out into the driveway, they all greeted Jason in their own unique ways - Dick having the most unique where he marched over and smacked a pointed green hat on his head, complete with a foam filled star on top.  
  


“What the hell is this?” Jason asked, scowling at the hat as he pulled it off his head.   
  


Tim felt his lips twitch into a smile as he recognized the shape and tried not to let his laughter bubble out. “It’s a Christmas tree hat, duh! You’re the Christmas tree! Now come on!” Dick grabbed him by the arm and began to drag him away towards the large van that Alfred was pulling up. “You’re going caroling with us at the children’s ward of Gotham General and you’re NOT gonna make that face when you’re with the kids!”


	3. December 03: Naughty or Nice (TimKon)

“Okay.” Kon declared firmly, turning around to face Tim with both hands tucked behind his back. The meta smiled at him, blue eyes twinkling even more so thanks to the lights decorating the large Christmas tree that Ma had set up. “Question time, and you gotta be really careful before you answer it.”  
  


With a droll look at his boyfriend, Tim simply stared at him and observed him as he shuffled forward on his knees to sit in front of him. “I’m serious about this.” Kon scolded him, lips twitching just enough to give him a flash of white. The taller man was all but buzzing in excitement, in fact, Tim was surprised that he wasn’t already. “Your present depends on your answer.”  
  


That was an interesting choice. Immediately he leaned in, eyes shifting between one hidden hand to the other, wondering what Kon had gotten him and what the question would be. “Alright.” Tim admitted, looking straight at the meta. “What’s the question?”  
  


Immediately Kon shook his head, clucking his tongue in disapproval. “I’m not sure if you’re ready for this. You don’t really sound enthusiastic enough about this.” The urge to roll his eyes at Kon’s theatrics was hard to fight and he gave into the urge without a second thought. It served to make Kon tsk even more in disapproval. “Where’s your Christmas spirit you Grinch?”  
  


That just made him roll his eyes harder, to a dramatic effect. “Christmas isn’t about presents, I thought you were old enough to know that by now.” Tim gave Kon a mocking smile, saccharine sweet and teasing, before continuing, “Oh wait. I forgot that you’re just 10.”  
  


“Ha ha.” Kon retorted, tone dry as sand. “Keep that up and I’m gonna leave coal in your stocking.”   
  


“That’s not what you said last night.” Tim grinned, body shaking with mirth as Kon growled and poked his sides with his powers. “I’m sorry! But that was just too easy!”  
  


“Now THAT was too easy.” Kon retorted, giving Tim another poke to the ribs. “And I’m not even gonna dignify that with a response. Come on, seriously.” And there was that tiny whine that Kon tended to use when he was getting desperate. “Are you ready?”  
  


Wriggling slightly in place as though he was getting comfortable, Tim rested his links hands in between his crossed legs. “Okay. I’m ready for your question.” He met Kon’s eyes steadily this time, no mirth or playfulness in his body language.   
  


Whatever Kon saw or heard, he seemed satisfied with it and became serious as well. He cleared his throat, shifting to sit down on his heels before speaking. “Okay. Your question is…have you been naughty or nice this year?”  
  


It took a grand total of 0.5 seconds for his eyebrows to shoot up in bland surprise, oddly not too shocked by the question itself. “Really? That’s your question?” Tim asked for clarification. “Whether I’ve been naughty or nice?” At Kon’s enthusiastic nod, Tim exhaled (more like sighed if he were honest) and thought about his answer.  
  


He’d been civil to Damian (fighting with the Hell Spawn only 3 times all year), even gotten Jason a proper birthday present (it had been an antique gun), helped stop over 300 petty crimes (give or take 10), prevented at least 20 large gang based operations (counting the ones that he had helped Dick and Bruce on), not to mention the numerous donations that he had made to various charities…  
  


“I think I’ve been nice?” Tim wound up asking, suddenly wondering why his present depended on the answer. Was Kon actually going to give him a box full of coal for being naughty? As quick as the question came to mind, Tim was just as quick to dismiss it - Kon wouldn’t do something like that. A box full of socks now, that was more possible.   
  


Kon’s face broke out in a smile, left arm shooting forward with a brightly wrapped box in tow. “Then this is the gift for you.” With a wry look at the snowmen and snowflakes, Tim accepted the box and wondered if it was maybe going to explode in his face. With that thought in mind, he gave the box a tentative shake and heard nothing, not even a rattling. “Open it!” Kon urged him, dropping whatever he had been holding in his right hand and sitting down cross legged in front of him.  
  


Nudging Kon’s knee with his own, Tim carefully began to peel the tape off - mostly to preserve the wrapping paper but also for the accompanied bonus of watching Kon squirm with excitement. By the end, Kon was making complaints about his behavior and Tim fingered the edge of the box with no small amount of trepidation.  
  


Carefully, he pulled the top off and stared at the soft wrapping tissue. Tim gave Kon one last curious look before he began to pull the material back. It crinkled and whispered against itself as Tim peeled it back to reveal…  
  


“Oh you didn’t.” He groaned loudly, reaching out to hit Kon on the shoulder with the lid. “How is this a present for me being nice?” Kon sniggered as Tim pulled out the white stockings and examined the lace design.   
  


The meta shifted closer to him, sitting down next to him (and revealing the second box that he had been hiding behind him). He leaned into Tim’s space, voice husky and teasing as he whispered, “You deserve a reward for being good, don’t you think?”  
  


The cool whisper made a tingle run down his spine and gooseflesh rise up on his arms. His mouth and tongue went dry in the blink of an eye, along with his lips. Tim pressed them together for a moment, trying to gather his scattered thoughts before turning his head to meet Kon’s eyes. “This feels more like a present for yourself than for me.”   
  


His voice was scratchy, as though he hadn’t used it in ages instead of just minutes. And Kon noticed the change, the lust in his eyes flaring in response. He smirked and pulled the second box forward. “That’s why I got you another present.”  
  


“If I get lingerie for being good.” Tim asked as he pulled the green ribbon off, “Then what do I get for being naughty.” His lover simply smirked, choosing not to answer and wait for Tim to get to the wrapped up present. Tim went through the wrapping quicker than before, wincing as the tape tore off a few edges thanks to his impatience.   
  


He smacked the flat of his palm against his forehead when he saw his gift. “You’re incorrigible!” Tim muttered, staring at the fuzzy red handcuffs and then at his guwaffing boyfriend. 


	4. December 04: Candy Cane Madness (TimKon)

His irritation from before had taken a firm back seat, being quickly replaced with a thick curiosity as he held a yelp and a bang coming from inside the kitchen a.k.a the area he hadn’t been allowed into all day or could sneak a peek into ‘or else’. His stomach growled sadly, grumbling every so often as it had been doing once the smell of freshly baked products had began to drift over the room.  
  


 _‘What the hell are they making in there…’,_  he wondered to himself, staring more at the closed kitchen door instead of the book in his hands. There was the muffled sound of conversation, more soft clattering and the scratch of wood against the floor. “Sounds like they’re almost done.” Pa commented distractedly, eyes continuing to move over his newspaper.  
  


The suddenness of the comment made Tim turn his head sharply towards Pa, both eyebrows raised minutely as he repeated the words. “Almost done?”  
  


“Mmhmmm. Sounds like it.” Well that was wonderfully vague, Tim groused to himself as he forced himself to relax and actually go past page 157 of the book instead of sitting in the comfortable arm chair and spend his afternoon staring the damn door down.  ”Any minute now….”  
  


Tempted as he was to argue that Kon and Ma had been locked away in the kitchen  since their early lunch and hadn’t so much as stuck a hair out of the door and sounded like they were as busy as a hive of bees, Tim sighed and stared at his book. Half way through the page, a small creak from the door made him and Pa look up.  
  


Kon poked his head out, hair and face smeared with flour as he met the pair’s gaze before grinning at Tim. “We’re ready now. Come on!” With an enthusiastic ‘come on!’ hand wave, Kon disappeared back into the kitchen. Tim looked at Pa, who nodded in the direction of the kitchen before returning to his newspaper. He wondered if he ought to thank him for sitting with him the whole time Kon and Ma had been busy…then again, they had practically told Pa to keep an eye on him and make sure that he wouldn’t try to sneak into the kitchen.  
  


“I’ll just…”, Tim trailed off as he stood up, briskly walking the short distance over to the kitchen door and pushing it open. Curiosity at its peak, Tim stepped into the warm kitchen and was immediately assaulted by the smell of fresh baking and…peppermint?  
  


His eyes landed first on Ma and Kon, smiling broadly at him before sweeping their hands over the dining table that was laden down with all manners of treats. All of then involving candy canes in one way, shape or form. Tim felt his eyes widen in surprise, mouth falling open slightly as he began to count the plates.  
  


Kon immediately walked over to him, slinging an around around his shoulder (leaving a nice flour hand print on his sweater) before explaining himself. “So before you’re mad, just lemme explain okay? I know you hate candy canes and all but it’s totally a part of Christmas and I talked with Ma, who told me that there’s plenty of recipes that use candy canes so I figured that you could try them and see if you like something or not.”  
  


Staring in open mouthed surprise at his boyfriend, Tim stammered out. “You…went to all this trouble…for me?” He couldn’t believe it. Most people tended to just accept it when he would mention that he wasn’t fond of candy canes (after a look or two of utter disbelief). No one had ever tried to get him to try alternatives and all together, Tim wasn’t quite sure how he felt about this gestures.  
  


But the second he made the mistake of looking into Kon’s hopeful, happy eyes, his stomach moaned in defeat and readied itself for a long session of eating all things candy cane. “Thank you Conner. Ma.” Tim offered immediately, smiling at both of them before asking Kon. “What did you guys make?”  
  


“We’ve got candy cane popcorn, candy cane brownie fudge, candy cane fudge, candy cane cake, peppermint swirl fudge, mint chocolate -covered cookies,” Ma began to recite as she pointed to each dish, “peppermint stick marshmallows, peppermint bark, crunchy peppermint bark, candy cane truffles and candy cane cookies.”  
  


A loud groan rang through his head, imagining not only the headache that he would surely get after ingesting all that sugar but also the stomach ache he was going to have. With a hopefully enthusiastic smile, Tim walked up to the table and wondered if it would be cruelty through kindness if he repeated the same gesture for Kon, just replacing candy canes with zucchini. 


	5. December 05: No One Said Love Was Easy (TimKon, BruceDick)

As much as he appreciated his boyfriend concern for his well being, the fact of the matter was that Tim just didn’t need the 3 scarves, 5 sweaters, 2 pairs of mittens, 3 pairs of socks, 2 warm hats, thermal pants, jeans, sweat pants, ear muffs  _and_  a bulky jacket to stay warm.’ _Maybe he feels extra sensitive to the heat because of his higher body temperature…’_  Tim mused to himself, waving back in response to Kon’s enthusiastic wave. He snickered slightly when a snow ball caught the meta on the back of his head, Dick laughing louder at the curses Kon let out.  _‘But this still qualifies as overkill.’_  
  


Kon immediately bent down to make another snow ball, yelling at Tim, “Come on! You should play too!” Even through the falling snow Tim could make out the bright flash of Kon’s teeth as he grinned at him. But before he could figure out a non-sarcastic way of telling his boyfriend that in his attempts to ward off the cold, he had rendered Tim unable to bend down to the ground.   
  


 _‘I think I’m actually sweating.’_ , Tim mused to himself, watching Kon and Dick dance between the treeline as they tried to best one another in their impromptu snowball fight. He stood in place, pushing the collecting snow off his shoulders as he watched the pair horse around but eventually, he grew tired of standing in one place and searched for a place to sit down. That was assuming that he could bend his knees enough to plop down on the bench underneath the gazebo.  
  


Tim began his slow and careful toddling towards the structure, feeling very much like a turtle and wondered that should he fall over, would he be able to get up on his own accord or would he need help? But since that was something that he didn’t feel in the mood for testing out, Tim took caution to avoid tripping over.  
  


As he came near the gazebo, he realized that someone was approaching. A heavily bundled figure, holding an umbrella over their head to prevent the snow from falling on them. Tim squinting at the person, wishing that the snow would lighten up just long enough for him to recognize who it was. But he still strained all his senses, wanting to figure out the identity of this new person.   
  


When the tall figure came closer, there was a sudden blink of recognition in his mind and just as quick confusion. “Bruce.” Tim greeted from underneath the safety of the small roof. “What’s with the get up?” He waved a covered hand up and down in front of the older man front, gesturing to his extremely bundled up look.  
  


There was a hint of droll fondness in his eyes as he tapped the umbrella against the floor. “Dick insisted that I should be properly bundled up before he come out. He was worried that I might catch a cold.” Tim couldn’t help but think that it was a little hypocritical of Dick to force Bruce into (what looked like) 4 scarves while he was prancing around in the snow with just the one.   
  


“Am I to assume that your similar state is thanks to Kon-El?” Tim felt his face turn hot in pleased embarrassment as he nodded and turned to watch Kon almost get buried until a pile of fresh snow when Dick knocked him against a tree whose branches were heavily laden with the white powder.  
  


Bruce sighed at the sight, shaking his head lightly from side to side. “He’s going to catch a cold like that.”  
  


“Yep.” Tim agreed, nodding once more before wincing as Kon extracted his revenge by pushing a large handful of wet snow down Dick’s back. “He really is.” And he was going to make sure that he wasn’t around to catch it either.


	6. December 06: Winter Wonderland (TimKon)

“Ready?” Tim asked, standing next to the bench and observing Kon knot the laces on Jack’s skates. The meta gave them one more good tug, making sure that they were tied good and tight before he gave his son a critical look. He quickly adjusted the bright red cap on his dark head before tugging the zipper up a little higher.  
  


Jack squirmed in excitement, ignoring Kon’s actions and chirping happily up at Tim. “Yep! Can we skate now?” The boy’s eyes were bright and blue, sparkling and twinkling like the Christmas lights decorating the nearby pine trees. Those bright eyes regarding his father’s one after another, waiting for their approval to start.  
  


Kon grinned at Jack’s enthusiasm, pretending to frown up at Tim as he asked, “I dunno champ. I don’t think you’re ready. What do you think?”   
  


His lover smiled, enjoying the game as Jack began to immediately argue back that he felt ready to do this. “C’mon Dad please?!” He begged, playing his role skillfully as he gave Tim his best pleading look. Kon chuckled as Tim played along as well, stroking his chin and wondering aloud if Jack really was ready for this.  
  


As the pair bantered back and forth, eyes locked on the sight of his partner and son, Kon pushed himself up to his feet with a happy smile. Jack always appeared to be an equal mix of himself and Tim but in that moment, as they both teased each other, Kon felt that his son was all Tim. The smile on his face, the twinkle in his eye, the almost dimple in his cheek…  
  


“Lets see what your Daddy says.” Tim finally conceded  lips twitching with the effort to keep from grinning broadly. “What do you think Conner? You think he’s ready?” Twin pairs of blue eyes looked at him expectantly, seeking his answer. The twin looks that they were giving him made him panic momentarily because he hadn’t been paying attention to what they were talking about.   
  


Kon turned his attention to Jack before giving the busy skating rink a quick look. “Well…” He began, dragging the word out before asking Jack, “Do you’re ready?”  
  


“Yes!” Jack replied, firmly and earnestly. “I’m ready to learn how to ice skate!” And now the boy looked like him: the stubborn set to his jaw, the slight line in the middle of his eyebrows, the press of his lips. Pride and joy meshed together in his chest, overshadowing the tiny bit of disbelief that this boy sitting in front of him (wearing his bright red hair, pants and white laced skates) was his  _son_. Half of him came from Tim and half from himself… Kon didn’t think that the day would ever come when it stop feeling so amazing.  
  


Smiling, he held his hand out for his son to take before instructing him to take hold of Tim’s gloved hand with the other. The four year old immediately took Tim’s hand into his own, gripping it tight as he attempted to stand on the skates. Between Tim and himself, they manage to help Jack into some semblance of equilibrium before they amble up to the edge of the white ice. “Just take it easy okay?” Tim told the boy, “You don’t have to raise your feet off the ice for now. We’ll skate and you’ll skate with us.”  
  


Jack nodded, staring at the ice with an extremely determined expression (just like the one he tended to make when faced with a word that he couldn’t pronounce correctly). The grip on his hand tightened, it was an oddly humbling feeling to know that that hand depended on and trusted him so. Heart swelling, Kon cleared his throat and pushed a foot onto the ice. “Here we go.”


	7. December 07: Deja View (BruceDick)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The idea for this came from [this conversation](http://epigenetics.tumblr.com/post/37479212773/imheliababe-epigenetics-silencingthedrums)

There it was again, that shiver that meant that someone was watching him. Dick immediately stopped, halting in front of an impressive Eastern White Pine and pretended to examine it as he tried to figure out if someone was watching him. All kinds of people milled around him, arguing, laughing, chatting as they passed by and around him. No way of knowing if someone truly was stalking him.  
  


His phone buzzed in his pocket, startling him out of his thoughts and reaching for the device immediately.  _‘Speaking of stalkers…’_ , Dick thought dryly to himself as he started at the message notification. ‘How the hell is he doing this…’ Dick pulled up the text from Bruce. It was a simple one line message, much like the others that he had received since he had started his trip.  _“No Eastern Pine’s. You can’t hang heavier decorations on them. Try the White Fir’s.”_  
  


“How the hell is he doing this?” Dick mumbled, fingers moving over the screen as he asked the question _again_. Bruce was sitting on the other side of the world, Osaka, Japan to be precise, and yet he had been giving him Christmas tree advice as easily as though he was standing right next to him. All attempts to call him had been futile because Bruce was refusing to pick his call. Hell, he wasn’t even replying back to Dick’s repeated questions on how he was pulling this off.  
  


Dick’s eyes wandered up to the security camera mounted on the wall, the machine swiveled slowly from side to side with all the grace and speed of a drunken tortoise. ‘Maybe he’s watching me through that…’ Experimentally (more like childishly), Dick stuck his tongue out at the camera before beginning to walk again. Another shiver ran down his spine, the back of his neck prickling. The phone buzzed again in his hands and Dick quickly read the new text.  _“You should focus on finding the right tree instead of sticking your tongue at the camera.”_  
  


He shouldn’t be smiling at that but Dick couldn’t help it. Instead of shooting back another question asking whether Bruce was spying on him (or doing something far more freakier like astral projection or something), Dick replied back.  _“No witty comment on how I should stick my tongue out only if I plan on using it?”_  Oh how he wished that he could have been there to see the look on Bruce’s face on that one. ‘Probably won’t show much of a reaction.’ Dick thought to himself, still smiling as he wandered forward.  
  


Dick stood and stared at the sign in front of him, wondering if he ought to check out the White Fir’s or the Colorado Blue Spruce’s or maybe the Fraser’s…With a tiny chuckle, Dick unlocked his phone again to shoot off another message to Bruce.  _“Should I check out the Fraser’s or the White Fir’s or the Colorado Blue?”_  
  


It wasn’t even 20 seconds after he had hit send that Bruce had replied back.  _“Alfred’s decor rarely goes into the blue tones, so no Colorado Blue. It’s hard to find a good White Fir in the shop you’re in so I’d opt for a Fraser. There’s a few that are above 45 feet and had good girth. A Douglas would be satisfactory as well.”_  Dick blinked in surprise, looking up and doing a complete full circle around him for some sign that Bruce was hiding behind one of the larger trees. ANYTHING was within the realm of possibility considering the uncanny degree of accuracy that Bruce’s text had.  
  


Alfred took a step back behind a broad Noble Fir, shifting the cellphone to his other ear. “Master Richard looks very much like a puppy trying to catch his own tail. Don’t you think that this is a tad childish?” He leaned forward to catch sight of Dick shaking his head and walking down towards the White Fir’s with the most bewildered expression on his face. “Yes, I am aware that you’re in Japan.” Alfred sighed at Bruce’s arguments. “That still doesn’t give you the right to scare Master Richard like this.” Another pause where Bruce defended his actions, complete with a long sigh at the end before he began to follow his target from a safe distance. “Your sense of humor is extremely appalling, Bruce. I hope you know that.”


	8. December 08: It's Probably On Purpose (TimKon, BruceDick)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very many thanks to Jill for the idea <3

“They’re after me!” Kon hissed, back pressed against the wall of the crude snow fort that Tim had constructed. His eyes strained themselves, searching for the source of the snowballs that kept pummeling him. While he had agreed to the rules of no powers, there were some senses that he could use and then argue that he ‘couldn’t help himself from using them because they’re my eyes and my hearing!’  
  


But it was useless. He ought to have known better than to agree to a snowball fight with Batman and Nightwing as their opponents. While Tim was an excellent partner to have on your side in a snowball fight, he just didn’t match up to Batman and Nightwing teaming up! Boy he was glad that Tim couldn’t read his mind…  
  


Tim was raising his eyebrow at him, the one that was an amused quirk that was meant to say ‘Seriously?’. Amazing how expressive he could be when he really let himself go. A snowball smacked against his hip, making him jump to Tim’s other side as he yelled, “They’re just targeting me! This is totally unfair!”  
  


He was now on the receiving end of the double eyebrow raise, the disbelieving one that said ‘Really? Is that the story you’re going with?’.  Kon immediately held up a gloved hand, pointing at Tim and then in the direction where the snowball had come from before all but yelling, “They are TOTALLY after me! You can’t deny it!”  
  


“What makes you say that?” Tim asked, turning around to peek over the top in search of any sight of Bruce or Dick. His hand was wrapped tight around a snowball, slowly coming up before shooting off towards its target. Kon heard a soft whump as it hit something, making him curious enough to sneak a peek himself but that resulted in him getting a face full of snow.  
  


Spluttering, Kon crouched down to wipe the snow off his face. “See!” He cried out, gesturing behind him. “This is why I didn’t want you to tell them that we’re going out! I’m staying here for a damn week! We coulda told them the day before I was leaving! That’d have given them way less time to make my life a living hell! Just cause you threatened them doesn’t mean that they won’t find ways around them cause a. it’s you and b. it’s them!”  
  


Rant over, Kon’s heavy breathing formed tiny cold puffs around him, making him think of steam engines momentarily. Tim looked up from rolling the snow together into a tight ball before shaking his head in clear amusement. “You’re just sore that you can’t dodge their shots. I told you that they’re good shots.”  
  


On the other side of the fight, Dick handed over a snowball to Bruce. “Are they still behind the wall?” He crept beside Bruce, watching Kon waving his arms at Tim before smirking. “The 1-2?” His voice was positively gleeful as he rolled the snowball in his hands.  
  


While he had agreed with Tim that they wouldn’t be mean to Kon during his visit (and beyond), a snowball fight was a completely different affair. All’s fair in love and war and all that. Bruce seemed to agree if his evil smirk was anything to go by. “I’ll go in from the left, you from the right.”  
  


“Gotcha.” Dick began to sneak off into the direction Bruce had told him, taking care to reduce the crunch of the snow underneath his boots. No one started to date Tim like Kon did and get away without any kind of punishment. Just Kon’s bad luck that it was going to be being under a barrage of Super Grayson snowballs. 


	9. December 09: The Mistletoe Plan (DamianColin, sideTimKon + BruceDick)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Experimenting with dialogues only

“This isn’t going to work, Dick.”  
  


“Not with that attitude it isn’t.”  
  


“It’s not that I don’t trust you, because I do. But do you really think that this is how you can get them to get together?”  
  


“It got you and Kon together didn’t it?”  
  


“Can I plead the fifth?”  
  


“That’s what I thought. Hold on a sec….Okay, Bruce just sent me the message. They’re on their way here. Come on, get on my shoulders.”  
  


“I still…think this is a stupid id-whoa!”  
  


“Whoa easy there! If you fall out then this whole plan is done before it even starts!”   
  


“Tying mistletoe to a branch with some string and hiding behind a curtain in the hopes of dangling the mistletoe over Damian and Colin’s head isn’t exactly a plan.”  
  


“Okay Mr.Negativity, how would you have done this then?”  
  


“Pushed them into the same room together and kept them there till they sorted out their issues. Like I did for you and Bruce.”  
  


“I know you like to think that that was the reason why we got together but… I gotta burst your bubble Tim. It wasn’t.”  
  


“Denial doesn’t suit you, Dick.”  
  


“I’m just saying that it was a lot more complicated than that!”  
  


“So you both finally getting rid of all the UST around you after 3 sessions of… you know, qualifies as ‘complicated’? Remind me to never ask you what you guys argue about.”  
  


“‘You know’? Say it with me Tim, it was sex. If you can’t talk about it, you’re not mature enough to have it. Do I need to talk to Kon about this?”  
  


“Do that and I’m gonna put crickets in your bed again.”  
  


“Touchy subject huh.”  
  


“I could very easily kick your head from this angle.”  
  


“I could just as easily drop you on your ass. Wanna see who’s faster?”  
  


“Don’t e-…I think I hear them. Hand me the branch.”  
  


“Here. Just wait until they both are behind the desk okay?”  
  


“-ure it’s okay that I borrow it?”  
  


“Of course. Father said so.”  
  


“I’m just a little…it’s a first edition! I’d be scared of messing it up somehow.”  
  


“We’ve got two. One for reading and one for Father’s collection. Help me find it.”  
  


“Are these books alphabetized?”   
  


“By author. It should be over here near the desk…”  
  


“I’m fine with a regular paperback edition or….something.”  
  


“…what?”  
  


“You’ve got…mistletoe. Over your head…”  
  


“What is that wretched plant doing over he- is that string?!”  
  


“I think that’s a broom stick!”  
  


“Grayson! Drake! What the hell do you think you’re doing?!”  
  


“This is the part where I say, I told you so.”


	10. December 10: A Convincing Argument (BruceDick)

It was one his way down to the Cave that Bruce noticed Dick wasn’t downstairs getting ready for their nightly patrol. Dick had come skidding out the TV room, a happy flush over his cheeks as he declared, “I call snow day!”  
  


Bruce looked on in bemusement as Dick bounded up to him, eyes sparkling as he repeated his words. “Have you seen the news?! They’re saying that this is gonna be the biggest snow storm that Gotham’s ever seen! It’s already started!” Immediately Dick took hold of Bruce’s hand and pulled him towards the nearest window. He stumbled slightly before matching Dick’s hurriedly pace.  
  


Staring out the window into the darkness, Bruce was ready to believe the weather forecast. The snow was coming down so swiftly and heavily that it had already piled on at least a foot high. A chilly wind swept through the thin, bare branches, making the snow swirl in an unfriendly manner that made Bruce feel slightly cold. He was grateful of being indoors instead of out on a night like this.  
  


“There’s gonna be so much snow tomorrow!” Dick all but moaned in delight, palm pressing against the glass. Bruce’s gaze ticked towards his lover, observing his happiness with growing fondness. “We should totally have a snow day! We’ll get Tim and Damian to come with us and make a snow fort, maybe go tobogganing, make some snow angles, oh!” Wide blue eyes looked back up at him, bright with anticipation and hope. “We should totally make a snow man or two!”  
  


Bruce tried to hide his smile as Dick continued to rattle off his plans, adding in ice skating, a snow ball fight and even skiing in his excitement. He was loathe to point out that there weren’t enough hours in the day to squeeze in all the activities that he wanted to do but he didn’t really want to burst his bubble.   
  


Not extricating his hand out of Dick’s grip, Bruce instead asked, “I thought that you were downstairs warming up for tonight’s patrol.”  
  


Immediately Dick gave him a surprised look, as though the question was the most ludicrous thing that he had ever heard of. “Uuuuh, hello?” Dick held his hand up against the window, gesturing towards the snow storm. “You think we can patrol in this weather? Hate to break it to you big guy but we’re grounded for tonight.”  
  


Bruce looked out the window, staring at the snow with a narrow eyed gaze. Doubtless it would be cold outside but he had made a few adjustments to his suit once winter had crept in and dug it’s sharp claws into the city. Visibility seemed horrible, the snow just seemed to keep falling on and on and if the heavy gray clouds were any indication, it was going to keep on snowing through the night till the early morning.  
  


Dick took his silence as a disagreement and immediately tried to coax Bruce out of patrolling. There was no other reason for him to press him against his side and give him that coy look Dick used when he wanted something and was ready to go to great lengths to get it. “C’mon. Think about it! Wouldn’t it be better to stay in tonight? Tim’s helping Alfred with the popcorn string and Damian’s up in his room. We can light a fire in your study, get some blankets, hot chocolate and just have some quality time together.”  
  


Dark lashes fluttered, almost brushing close before clear blue eyes looked back up at him coquettishly. A teasing smile pulled Dick’s lips up into a half smile, making him look more mischevious than playful. “Wouldn’t that much better than freezing like a popsicle on top of some building?”  
  


With an amused smile, Bruce slipped his arm across Dick’s waist before pulling him closer. “Keep talking.”


	11. December 11: Worrying Is A Fine Art (TimKon)

Kon had a problem, one that even Yahoo!Answers didn’t seem to have an answer for. Not that he was surprised about that but that didn’t mean that he hadn’t been disappointed. He had been expecting  _some_  kind of help or guideline when had typed in the phrase ‘good christmas presents for your guy best friend who you’ve developed a crush on after a lot of years of friendship and happens to be rich enough to afford anything that he wants’. But instead all he had was a great, big, stinking pile of nada, zilch and nothing.

Staring moodily at the list open in front of him, Kon closed the tab and pushed the laptop away so that he could let his head fall on top of the table with a depressingly heavy thunk. With his nose half smooshed against the cool surface, Kon sighed and closed his eyes.  _‘Maybe I could try switching with someone…’_  
  


Ah but Cassie had said that no switching was allowed. Plus, everyone seemed to have gotten their Secret Santa’s a present. Everyone except him. “Why did I have to pick him.” Kon groaned into the table, banging his head a few more times in the vain hopes of knocking an idea loose from the far recesses of his mind.  
  


“Go easy on the table. What’d it ever do to you?”   
  


Tim’s amused comment made Kon sit up, rocking slightly in his chair thanks to the speed and force with he did so. “Tim!” He reached out towards the laptop and pulled it towards himself, hoping that his friend wouldn’t catch the open tabs and get the wrong idea. But too late, Tim walked up behind him and peeked at the screen. “Looking for Christmas presents?” Tim gave Kon a disapproving look. “Did you wait till the last minute again?”  
  


Heat suffused his face in embarrassment as he hurriedly closed the laptop’s lid. “I didn’t leave it till the last minute!” Kon replied defensively, watching Tim as he walked around the table towards the coffee pot. “I bought all my gifts two weeks in advance! I just…can’t figure out what to get my Secret Santa.”  
  


Tim poured himself a mug of the dark liquid, hands quickly adding in sugar and cream before he turned around to face the meta. He looked like he had pulled an all nighter in his lab, the dark circles and blood shot eyes saying it all. “Just get them anything.” Tim offered dismissively, taking a long sip of the coffee.  
  


“But I don’t want to get them just  _anything_!” Kon insisted, looking imploringly at Tim. “It’s gotta be special!”  
  


Tim gave a sharp look, heavy with consideration in a way that made Kon’s breath catch and wonder if maybe he had said too much. “Special how?”   
  


It took great effort on his part not to flinch or wince or rub his hands against his jeans under that look but Kon managed to overcome the scrutinizing look before he replied. “Just special. Because they’re really important to me. I wanna show em that…that I care.”  
  


There was a subtle shift in Tim’s eyes that reminded Kon of curtain’s being pulled in front of a window. “Then think about what they like and get something related to that.” Tim half shrugged, one shoulder rising and falling. “You can’t go wrong then.”  
  


With an almost blank stare, Kon wondered what Tim’s likes included. Enya? Kicking bad guy’s asses? Science? He felt his palms grow sweaty out of nervous tension. He was so, so screwed. What kind of friend was he that he couldn’t even think of what Tim liked! “Kon?” Tim piped up, pushing himself away from the counter to stand in front of him and squeeze his shoulder. “Breathe. It’s just a present.”  
  


“But what if he doesn’t like it?” Kon asked, eyes wide with worry. “I don’t want him to hate it!”  
  


Tim’s face softened into a smile, gentle as a feather. “I think that if you can show that you’ve put a lot of thought into the gift then he won’t hate it at all.”  
  


Part of his despair melted away at the words and was quickly replaced with hope. “You think so?” Kon asked, wanting a certain measure of certainty that no matter what he decided on, Tim would appreciate, if not like, his gift.   
  


“It  _is_  the thought that counts.” Tim reminded him, “Just put some thought into it, you’ll figure something out.” Patting his shoulder once again, Tim he made his way out and left Kon to his thoughts.


	12. December 12: More Than A Feeling (TimKon)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follows the events in ‘PANICKING IS A FINE ART’

“Here.” Tim looked at the box that had been thrust right in front of his nose before following it up to the teen holding it. Kon’s eyes danced around him, looking at everything except Tim’s eyes before meeting them for a split second and dancing away. His hand rattled the box a tad impatiently, gesturing for Tim to accept it already. “Merry Christmas.”  
  


Tim reached up to take hold of the wrapped box, peering at his own distorted reflection in the shiny golden wrapping paper. “You were my Secret Santa?” He asked shrewdly, wondering why Kon had chosen to hand his present over now instead of later when everyone would exchange presents.  
  


The meta nodded jerkily, a muscle jumping in his jaw as he watched Tim turn the box over and over again in his hands. “Aren’t you…gonna open it now?” He asked hesitantly, blue eyes shifting between anxiousness and anticipation. Tim stared at Kon for a tiny bewildering moment before he began to pull the ribbon off.  
  


Kon kept fidgeting as he unwrapped the present, continuously looking over his shoulder as though he was making sure that no one was paying attention to their corner. Tim wondered what was up with his best friend as he peeled away the lap bit of tape holding the paper against the box. Was his present exceptionally embarrassing? Or a prank? He would find out soon enough…  
  


Pulling the top open, Tim peered inside the box and stared. He carefully pulled the [DELICATE LACE ANGEL ORNAMENT](http://www.s-embroidery.com/magazin/images/P/10549_Lace-Christmas-Angel350.jpg) out and let it rest in the palm of his hand. “Kon…this is…lovely.” His voice shook, taken back to the memory of being a child and held in his mother’s arms as she directed him to hang her favorite lace angel ornament at a particular bough. “Where did you find this?”  
  


There was a bashful edge to his movements, making him seem younger than how he looked. Kon rubbed a finger against his nose, hand hiding his smile before it slid down to rub against it’s twin. “Em well I remember you telling me that your mom had one like it so I tried to find one. But the best I could find was this do-it-your pattern thing. So I…made that.”  
  


Fingers freezing against the tiny bell hanging from the string bow tied on the angel’s front, Tim asked. “You  _made_  this?” Looking back at the ornament, Tim wasn’t sure how he had missed the tiny signs. One wing was crooked, dipping lower than it’s mate, the bow’s loops were a little too large to be fashionable and the bell was dented. Not that it affected the sweet ring it let out as Tim’s finger tapped it.   
  


He couldn’t believe that Kon had remembered such a minute little detail about his life! Tim hadn’t thought that anyone would have remembered. And then Kon had even gone the extra mile to  _make_  him this! In all the years that he had known the meta, this present was the most thoughtful one that he had ever received.  
  


Which took his mind back to the quick conversation he had had with Kon less than a week ago. Tim felt his face flush as he remembered Kon’s words. A present for someone important because he had wanted to show that he cared… His lips felt too dry and too smooth as he pressed them together before asking the question that begged to be asked. “Why go to all this trouble?”  
  


Tim looked up to meet Kon’s gaze, finding it so easy to ignore the music, noise and sounds of general merriment that were ringing in the large living room. It was as easy as breathing to focus all of his attention on Kon and wait with baited breath for an answer that he felt certain and uncertain of at the same time.  
  


“Because…” Kon swallowed, Adam’s apple bobbing as he did so. “‘Cause I wanted to just…let you know, show you that…I…” His voice faltered, dying along with the ending lines of Jingle Bell’s pouring out of the sound system. Tim took courage from the vaguely panicky look that was beginning to take over Kon’s face.  
  


“That you…” Tim urged quietly, taking a step closer and hoping against hope that he wasn’t reading this wrong.  
  


Whatever Kon saw gave him the courage to continue and took off the slightly pale edge that had crept to his complexion. The meta stared down into Tim’s face before pushing out a whispered confession that Tim almost missed thanks to Gar belting out ‘Jingle Bell Rock’. Tim’ felt his face and body grow warm, tingles starting from his toes and fingertips before they began to travel inward to where his heart beat in a steady, happy tattoo.  
  


He took in a long breath, smiling growing wider the longer he breathed in until finally he sighed and put the angel ornament away in favor of pulling Kon into a hug. Tim remained on his toes as he held on to Kon, enjoying the contact before closing his eyes and returning the confession in a slightly louder whisper. Kon’s arms tightened around him, squeezing him before relaxing as he laughed merrily.   
  


“What’s so funny?” Bart asked, zipping to a halt next to them and peering up at them both with curious eyes.   
  


The pair looked at each other before shaking their heads with a smile. “Nothing.” Kon replied, hand seeking out Tim’s. Tim hand met Kon’s half way and linked their fingers together, smiling shyly as Bart stared at their joined hands. “Took you guys long enough!” The speedster declared. 


	13. December 13: Christmas Traditions (TimKon)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A sort of continuation for 'More than a feeling' and 'Winter Wonderland'

“Careful.” Tim cautioned the boy, glancing down to see Jack dig through the box filled with ornaments. “If you break any of the ornaments then they might cut your hand. What are you looking for anyways?” He paused, popcorn string dangling next to him as he watched his son energetically search the box.  
  


Jack was frowning with intense concentration, squinting slightly at the box as thought it had wronged him in some way. “I was lookin’ for the angel.”  
  


The angel? What an-ah. Tim smiled, drapping the white and red string over a few boughs before crouching down next to his son. “You wanna hang that now? You don’t want to wait for your Daddy to come home?” For the past four Christmases, it had become a sort of tradition for Jack to hang Tim’s lace angel ornament up while being held up by Kon. It was surprising that their son would want to break that tradition.  
  


Jack shook his head, beginning to pull the tinsel out of the large box and deposit it in a pile next to him. “I wanted to get it out an’ make sure that it was alright an’ not broken.” Aaaaah, that explained it. Smiling slightly as Jack stared in confusion at the red baubles hanging with the silver and gold tinsel in his hands. “I can’t find it!” The boy complained, shoulders drooping with disappointment. “It wasn’t in any of the other boxes.”  
  


Sitting down next to Jack, Tim took the tinsel out of his hands before patting his lap. “Let’s have another look and see if we can’t find her. I remember us putting her away in one of these boxes. Wanna try again?”  
  


“Yep!” Jack declared, plopping down in Tim’s lap before glaring with renewed determination at the three boxes in front of them. “We gotta find her before Daddy comes home!”  
  


Glancing up at the clock told Tim that Kon ought to be back home from the grocery run in another thirty odd minutes. Just enough time to sort through the ornaments and hopefully find the lace angel that the meta had made for him all those years ago. “Then let’s get started.” Tim declared, pulling the first box forward.


	14. December 14: Wrapped Up (BruceDick)

Feeling green with envy, Dick watched Bruce swiftly and precisely wrap up the present in front of him. He knew that his lover had many talents in all kinds of fields, but he always thought that they were in area’s that related to their night jobs i.e. crime fighting, forensics etc. Present wrapping was something that had never entered Dick’s mind as being a skill that Bruce would highly proficient in.  
  


 _‘Where’d he learn to do that….’_ , Dick wondered, staring at his comparatively messy wrapping job. He’d always thought that he was fair at wrapping presents up but his work was practically sloppy compared to the clean folds of Bruce’s present. It was making him want to sulk in a corner…  
  


Bruce looked up at him and caught sight of Dick’s mopey expression. Dick tried not to feel guilty when he saw the quick flash of concern in Bruce’s eyes and tore off another piece of tape before sticking it on the present in front of him. “Is something wrong?”  
  


Sticking his lower lip out a little bit more, Dick nodded at the present that Bruce was wrapping up. “Never knew that you were good at wrapping presents.” No, no, he didn’t found petulant at all. That was just the bad acoustics of the room, as proven by the fact that the song playing on the radio was sounding a little too heavy on the bass.  
  


He glared at the cheerful snowmen printed on the wrapping paper before picking up the deep blue ribbon he was going to wrap around the box. Dick slipped it around the box, focusing his attention on the ribbon instead of the look that Bruce was giving him because the ribbon was slippery and Dick didn’t want to spend too much time on just trying a stupid silky ribbon around a box. He wasn’t avoiding Bruce’s gaze because he knew that he was being childish, not at all. It was the ribbon. The ribbon was a tricky thing that needed all of his attention…  
  


The chair dragged against the rug with a dull scrap, making Dick aware that Bruce had gotten out of his seat. Shaking his head lightly to remind himself to focus on the ribbon, Dick stared at it as he carefully began to tie it up in a bow. And failed spectacularly at keeping it together.   
  


“Here.” Bruce’s warm tone sent a shiver up his spine, making Dick freeze in his spot when the older man stood behind him and placed his hands on top of his own. “Hold it like this…” Dick felt his mouth go dry as Bruce’s whispered instructions brushed against his ear, teasing him as the larger fingers deftly wrapped the ribbon up in a neat, fancy bow.   
  


When he swallows the tiny bit of drool that’s collected under his tongue, it sounds too loud between them. But Bruce had begun to move away so maybe he had missed the sound. The sudden lack of Bruce’s presence behind him made Dick’s hands shoot out faster than he could process, fingers wrapping around Bruce’s wrists as he asked, “Would you mind helping me wrap the rest of the presents?”  
  


Dick turned slightly in his seat, just enough so that he could turn his face and look up to see Bruce. The older man’s gaze made his breath catch inside his lungs, his heart pounding hard under the heated scrutiny which was being directed at him. “Please?” Dick asked breathlessly.  
  


There was a moment of silence where Dick thought that Bruce was not going to agree but right as he thought of it, Bruce replied, “We should move somewhere more comfortable then.”  
  


But Dick tightened his grip instead, keeping Bruce behind him as he replied. “You could…sit here and I’ll just sit on your lap or something…” His voice fell half way through the sentence, aiming to come off as coy but actually coming off as hesitant thanks to the sudden embarrassment of his own words.   
  


He was surprised when Bruce tugged his hands out of Dick’s grasp, the bitter taste of disappointment rising up to the back of his throat. But it was quickly replaced with pleasant surprise when Bruce pulled him out of the chair and sat down into the vacated seat before pulling Dick down. Bruce seemed amused at Dick’s confusion, smiling even as his lover blinked like a confused owl. “How many presents do you have?” He asked.  
  


Dick felt momentarily tongue tied, wondering why he didn’t have a camera to capture that expression. “Uuuh….” He replied dumbly, turning to look at the presents with the intent of counting them but the part of his brain that would help him count had turned to mush so all he could reply was, “A lot.”  
  


With a quick chuckle, Bruce pulled a box forward before asking for some wrapping paper.


	15. December 15: Stupid Bets

Damian stared dubiously up the chimney before leaning back to eye Dick. “I refuse to believe that a fat man can make his way down this chimney.”  
  


Pausing from his task of pulling out the Christmas stockings, Dick was positively appalled by the boy’s statement. “Why the hell not?” He asked, “He’s Santa Claus! He can go up and down as many times as he wants in any chimney!”  
  


Rolling his eyes, the younger boy tapped his foot against the grating. “I doubt his very existence for starters and chalk it up as child’s tales at the same level of the tooth fairy or the Easter bunny. And realistically speaking, this chimney is just barely wide enough for myself to make my through. It is simply impossible for a man who apparently is thrice your size in width to make his way up or down. I doubt even you could make your way down.”  
  


“Magic for starters. And…” Holding up a bright green sock, Dick frowned at it as he inspected the embroidery before pulling off a few specs of loose thread. “I bet I could go up and down that chimney in 10 minutes.”  
  


That got Damian’s attention faster than a cat’s who had heard a cat of food being opened. “Did I hear that correctly? 10 minutes?”  
  


“Mmhmm.” Dick turned the sock around and deemed it fit for use before turning to the next before processing the fact that Damian hadn’t replied. He looked up at the boy, frowning slightly at the calculating expression on his face. “What?”  
  


“I’d like to see you do what you just said that you could.”   
  


Dick looked at Damian and then at the fireplace before shrugging. “Why not.” He replied, rolling his sleeves down. “Just make sure that no one starts a fire while I’m in there.”  
  


7 minutes later, Dick was crawling back down with a triumphant grin on his soot blackened face. “Told you!” He crowed, hands on his hips as he came to stand in front of his youngest sibling.  
  


The boy rolled his eyes, not amused by how cocky Dick was coming off. “Congratulations, you can now add chimney sweep to the list of career’s that you can perform should vigilantism fail to pan out.”  
  


Dick’s amused bark was cut in half by the sound of Tim’s surprised voice. “What the hell happened to you?” The pair turned to look at the newcomer, staring back as Tim stood gawping at Dick. Dick looked down at himself, grimacing a bit as he realized what a sight he must look like.   
  


Clearing his throat, Dick replied “Just went up the chimney and back down.” His tone was more suited for a statement that implied that he had gotten a coffee instead of the task that he had performed. Tim’s shift in expression told him that clear as day.  
  


“Why the hell would you do that?” He asked in exasperation, walking past the doorway while hefting his cargo a little higher in his hands. The boxes wobbled good naturedly, shifting in Tim’s grip until they were laid down next to the box that Dick had opened.   
  


The rest of the stockings. Dick eyed the boxes before looking down at his dirty hands. “It was a bet with Damian.” He replied distractedly, looking down at his feet and the dark circle that had formed around him. What an unexpected side effect… “I think I’ll go wash up before I put the stockings up.”  
  


“You do that.” Tim replied dryly, gingerly patting Dick’s back as he passed by before grimacing at his hand and wiping it clean on his jeans. “And you better clean up this mess before Alfred finds out.” Dick groaned at the prospect of extra work but he couldn’t argue back because after all, he had made the mess in the first place.  
  


He was at the door, wondering what would be the best way to open it while causing minimal sooth smudging when Damian piped up, “I still refuse to believe that the fat man can come down the chimney.” Dick was sorely tempted to click his tongue just like how Damian would in his irritated moments. All that work for nothing… And he’d even spoiled his favorite sweater in the process. 


	16. December 16: It Could Be Fun (BruceDick + Damian)

“Look around you!” Dick declared, spreading his arms wide to emphasis his statement (and in doing so nearly clocked the woman coming up behind him). “This is as winter-y as it gets! You can’t tell me that this place doesn’t like a wonderland or something out of a fairy tale!”  
  


Damian and Bruce continued to observe the winter carnival, the latter keeping his usual neutral in place as Damian pointed out, “I have never read those child’s tales. And I still fail to see the purpose of this endeavor.”  
  


Leaning down so that he was at eye level with the toy, Dick said slowly. “Say it with me Damian, fa-mi-ly bond-ing.”  
  


The boy glared at him, unimpressed and unhappy at being dragged out of the comfort of his room, looking over Dick’s shoulder at the happy parents and screaming children populating the park before looking up at Bruce. “You can’t be serious.”  
  


Bruce’s eyes ticked forward to Dick, who was giving him the look that told him to give the right reply for his own good. And he really didn’t want to be in the dog house with Dick, not so near to Christmas especially. He awkwardly patted Damian’s shoulder, “Maybe it’s not as bad as it seems. It could be fun.”  
  


The trio turned as one at the sounds of someone retching nearby and stared at the teenager with his head in the trashcan. “Or it could be far worse.” Damian retorted.


	17. December 17: Worth It (BruceDick)

Bruce’s eyes traced the threaded ribbons, fingers following the path until they tugged on the ends. He knotted the silky thread at the base before quickly tying into a neat bow and taking a step back to take in the view.  
  


The custom made set had cost him a pretty penny but he had to admit, the results were well worth the price tag. Dick’s lean figure seemed accentuated by the dark blue shade, or perhaps it was because of the silver and white trimming. They were the most Christmas-y colors granted but Bruce had wanted to pick a color that would suit his lover and he did look ravishing in dark blue.  
  


He offered Dick a hand, watching his legs and way the silky material clung to his legs as the man stepped into the matching heels. There was a flowery motif stitched into the lace hugging Dick’s thigh, a detail that he had missed when the other man had pulled the stocking on and snapped the material into place.  
  


Dick wobbled dangerously, his grip tightening on Bruce’s hand and making the older man return the hold immediately. Bruce looked up at Dick, meeting his laughing eyes as he apologized, “Sorry. It’s been a while since I’ve been in heels.” He knew that, which was why he had made sure to get a pair that wasn’t higher than 3 inches.  
  


“I feel….weird.” Dick’s self conscious laugh made Bruce squeeze his lovers hand, wanting to reassure him as much as want to hear the rest of Dick’s thoughts. “This is silk isn’t it? It feels really…decadent.”  
  


Smirking slightly, Bruce raised his free hand to stroke Dick’s thigh from his perch. A fine trembling ran up his lovers body, making Bruce think that Dick might fall forward on him. But he remained standing between his legs, running his hand over his side to finger the ribbons and decorative white bows. “That was the point.” Bruce pointed out, scooting to the edge of the bed so that he could easily wrap his arm around Dick’s waist.   
  


The corset hugged Dick’s waist, hiding more of his torso but the matching undergarments did a poor job of hiding the hard hard erection that his lover had been sporting for the better part of the last 15 minutes. “Do you like it?” He couldn’t stop himself from asking, knowing that it was a moot question giving the pleased flush that had spread over Dick’s cheeks when he noticed the way Bruce had been looking at him.  
  


Dick took a step forward before carefully straddling Bruce’s lap, stocking clad knees sinking into the soft mattress as he did so. Bruce kept his eyes locked with Dick’s, feeling his own lips stretching into a smile as Dick lightly ground his hips down into Bruce’s. “What do you think?” He asked teasingly.


	18. December 18: It's Only Cheating If You Get Caught (Batfam)

Damian stared at the bare gingerbread house that Alfred had placed in front of him before letting his gaze shift over to the numerous items that the butler had deemed appropriate for decoration use. To be quite frank, he wasn’t sure what exactly was the point of this exercise. Wouldn’t he serve Gotham and his Father’s cause better if he was out there fighting down the criminal element? What possible good could come out of decorating these pastries for the annual Wayne Christmas party?  
  


Swiveling on his seat, he turned to observe the others as they worked. Cassandra was frosting shingles into the rooftop of her house, expression as concentrated as he had ever seen. Dick was fiddling around with gumdrops and biscuits, trying to make a fancy colored pathway up to his own house. Jason was measuring the length of a wafer against the roof, making a disgruntled face when he realized that they would be short by a good inch. Tim was half bent over his tray, kneading the dark green colored cookie dough into tiny hedges.  
  


Tapping his fingers lightly against his bicep, he turned his face back at his own bare house. He didn’t have any experience at all when it came to decorating pastries or cookies, except that one time when Dick had insisted that they help Alfred make some gingerbread bat’s. His had turned out very fair even if he said so himself, especially when compared with frosting monstrosities that Dick had made.   
  


Damian couldn’t stop himself from rolling his eyes in annoyance at the memory and the task at hand. The easiest thing to do here would be to just get it over with. He had Dick’s word that as soon as he was done, he could go back to his room until the party started.   
  


 _‘The question is, how exactly do I finish this task as quickly as possible.’_  Damian mused, thinking back to the various searches that he done on the subject of decorating these cookies as well as the suggestions that Colin had given him. In the end, Damian had plenty of ideas and no proper idea which one he wanted to go through with.   
  


“Better hurry up Dami.” Dick reminded him. “We’ve only got another hour before Alfred comes back. Do you want some help or anything?”  
  


Scowling at the mere idea, the older man held his frost speckled hands up defensively before going back to frosting the windows of his gingerbread house. Damian stared at him working, eyes darting between the fingers applying pressure to the frosting bag and the speed with which he was moving over the square shape.  
  


 _‘I could do that so much better.’_  He thought to himself, nose turned up haughtily. His thoughts paused for a moment, an idea beginning to shape itself into a plan that could easily be pulled off. With a tiny smirk, Damian began to roll up his sleeves.  
  


—  
  


The four Wayne siblings stood side by side, staring down at the gingerbread house that Damian had completed and put together before speeding away to his room.   
  


Cassandra was the first one to point out quietly, “This is not a coincidence.”  
  


“Not at all.” Tim declared grimly, staring at the frosting icicles that so closely resembled the icicles that he had frosted with some care on his own gingerbread house.  
  


Dick and Jason reminded quiet, staring at the house before turning back to look at the other four houses around it. They look at each other before Jason replied, “It’s not like people aren’t gonna notice. They’ll figure it out that he copied something from each of our house and that’ll be the end of that.”  
  


The eldest of the group nodded, “Jason’s right. It’s pretty hard to miss.” There were tiny differences in the aspects that Damian had copied. His frosting shingled roof was dusted with powdered sugar while Cassandra’s was not. Tim’s house had frosted icicles that were of equal length and shape while Damian’s were varied in their shape and length. The peppermints that Jason had used to form a path up to the house were green while Damian’s were small chocolate biscuits. Dick’s marshmallow tree was a pale contrast to the colorful gumdrop tree that Damian had constructed next to his house.  
  


“I can’t believe that he managed to copy something from all of us.” Tim mumbled, leaning down to examine the detailed lattice frosting that Damian had mimicked from Cassandra’s work, brows rising in a tiny show of admiration. Cassandra seemed torn between admiration and irritation, clearly not pleased at being copied but still surprised at how well the mimicry had been.  
  


When the door swung open, the small group looked up as one into Alfred’s surprised expression. “What ever are you all doing?” He asked, gaze ticking over from one set of eyes to the other.  
  


“Just admiring Damian’s handywork.” Dick replied immediately. “Didn’t know that he had it in him.”  
  


“He’ll be the next Jaime Oliver.” Jason mumbled, smirking slightly when his reply made Tim snort and Dick fight back a smile.  
  


Alfred either didn’t hear the comment or choose not to reply to it, instead walking over to stand next to them to admire the work. “I was rather surprised to see how well he could decorate the house but I was pleasantly surprised when I saw the results. It was a bigger surprise to see that you all adopted aspects of his house into your own houses.”  
  


There was a lingering pause that made the butler wonder if maybe he had said something wrong. The doubt came close to certainty as Jason asked in a frosty tone, “Say what?”  
  


Suddenly Alfred wondered if maybe he ought to voice his suspicions even though he was starting to believe that they were completely wrong. “You all didn’t get inspired by some of the things that the young sir incorporated into the decorations of his gingerbread house?”  
  


There was a sudden darkening over the group’s faces before Tim grumbled, “I hate that kid.” The other three agreed in dark grumbles of their own.


	19. December 19: I'll Be Home For Christmas (Jason Centric, Batfam Gen)

The warning came too late, making him turn around to look at Nightwing but instead got a face full of the blast wave that sent him flying into the rickety walls. Jason didn’t even have the chance to voice the pain that came when the heat pressed against him. It crawled down his throat and pulled the breath out of his lungs with heated fingers, making him feel as though he was burning up from the inside out.  
  


Jason recognized the fact that his body had broken through the wall and that several large pieces of wood were digging uncomfortably into his already aching back but he couldn’t do anything to change that fact. Breathing in short, broken gasps, Jason tried to raised a hand up to his face. Panic began to rise up as his breathing refused to return to normal and his fingers scrambled to release the latch.  
  


Getting the hood off was a trial in it’s own right, especially since his entire arm  _throbbed_  with pain. And once he had it off, it didn’t help at all because the air wasn’t sweet or offered him relief. It was choked with dust and mites and God knew what else but it tasted acrid and clung to the back of his throat. Jason coughed, feeling like he was hacking his lungs out, complete with blood and spit.  
  


Someone was walking up to him. He could feel the vibrations of the footsteps against the floor before the sound crept up his ear. The soft tapping came closer, encouraging him to open his eyes and see who was standing next to him. But his eyes felt too heavy. Every part of him felt heavy, even his lashes. They felt the heaviest actually - heavier than concrete blocks laced with lead.  
  


Lean fingers brushed against his face, blessedly cool and gentle as they stroked his hair and face. “He’s over here.” Dick called out, floorboards creaking as he readjusted himself next to Jason. Another set of footsteps, heavier and quicker made their way over. Bruce, it had to be Bruce. “He’s still breathing. Got hurt more by crashing through the wall than by the blast.”  
  


Jason wanted to sit up, hold his hand against his rib that hurt like hell and bitch to Dick that when someone was in the blast radius the appropriate response was not to tell them to ‘watch out!’. But instead it should be something like ‘get the fuck down!’. He wanted to glare at Batman and tell him that he was going to be paying for his medical bills and therapy bill.  
  


But all of that would require a whole lot of energy that he didn’t have. In fact, he could feel it seeping out of his pores, growing more and more relaxed as darkness whispered at the edges of his mind. “Fuck.” Jason coughed out, realizing that he was passing out.  
  


After that his consciousness felt as though sleep and darkness were the ball and chain around his ankle, dragging him down and preventing him from breaking the surface and waking up. He came up a few times, unable to open his tired eyes but processing the sounds faster than he could comprehend.  
  


There was the hum of the Batmobile, revved up and ready to go as Bruce talked to someone. A bike screeching against the floor. Voices bickering like angry magpies, Damian mostly. Claws pattering against the floor. Soft, wrinkled hands pulled off his clothes before beginning the slow cleaning up process. Quiet voices talking over his head about the night’s mission. Faint strains of some Christmas Carol whose name he couldn’t remember. A wet nose pressing against his fingers, snuffing noisily at the digits before woofing deeply.   
  


The last one made him turn his face into the pillow, feeling like his head was stuffed with bricks, and stare down at the dog solemnly looking up at him. Jason swallowed, clearing his scratchy throat before mumbling, “Hey mutt.” Those dark soulful eyes continued staring up at him, drifting towards the door as his ear perked in the same direction. Jason curled his fingers against Titus’s snout, scratching lightly as the door opened.  
  


“Hey.” Dick greeted quietly, padding over to stand next to Jason’s bedside. He patted the Great Dane’s distractedly, scratching behind his ear before sitting down. “How are you feeling?”  
  


Jason cleared his throat again, screwing up the energy for a reply that would encompass his feelings and the dull sensation that was crawling over his skin like the aftermath of an electric shock. “Like shit.”  
  


Dick snorted, clearly amused by the reply. “Nice to see that blast didn’t rattle your brain.” Titus snorted as well, less in amusement and more thanks to some irritant in his nose before stepping back and leaping on top of the bed. It was always a little weird to Jason that a dog that big could be so damn graceful and light in it’s movements.   
  


Not to mention considerate, which was more than what he could say about the other members of the family. Titus nimbly clambered over his ankles, curling up next to his legs before proceeding to use his thighs as a pillow. Jason sighed, raising his hand up to rest it against the dog’s back. “What the hell happened?”  
  


Dragging forward the chair that had been pushed away from the bed, Dick began to explain. “Well. You remember chasing those two goons into that abandoned building right where Old Gotham starts? It was a trap. They had a bomb rigged up to the staircase. I came in just in time to see it and yelled to warn you but…it was too late. Luckily, there wasn’t any shrapnel and you were just thrown through the wall. You could’ve been hurt a lot worse.”  
  


The urge to grumble in retaliation immediately rises because he felt like shit. His chest felt like it had been singed, which it probably had been, resulting in a far too tender feeling every time that he’d take in a deep breath. Then there was his back. It was almost like someone wearing golf shoes had used him as a tap dancing floor. Plus there was the heavy bandages wrapped around his arms for some reason and his legs… well, maybe that heaviness was because of the dog that had slowly crept up to use him as a body pillow.   
  


Dick continued on, not pausing even though Jason’s attention had shifted away. “Bruce brought you back in the Batmobile, Alfred patched you up. You’ve been out like a light since then.” Jason grunted in acknowledgement, flexing the fingers of his left hand and then right before attempting to wriggle his toes. Turning his head from side to side adequately removed any immediate worries before some of his hazy memories came to him.  
  


Jason could remember the Batmobile part, even being taken upstairs and Alfred dressing him up. There was also the memory of Christmas carols playing on the stereo. He turned his eyes towards the windows, staring blearily at the overcast sky and the snow lazily floating down from the sky. No way to guess the time or day thanks to that kind of weather. But if he had to guess anyways, Jason estimated that he must have been out for the night at least. Which meant that it was probably Christmas Eve.  
  


Just the thought of it made his emotions twist into something unidentifiable. He didn’t want to be in this house, not around Christmas. Jason pushed himself up to his elbows, hissing at the pain that shot through his body. It immediately made him give up and fall back into the pillows in defeat. “It’s Christmas Eve today right?”  
  


Every part of him was telling him to suck it up and just get out of the house. Just the thought of having to stay in the mansion when all Christmas preparations were in full swing made him feel a a strange mix of awkward and nostalgic. All the memories, all the good times that he had had in this house had a bitter tinge when he thought back to his own apartment. Lacking the Christmas tree, wreathes, lights, sweet smells of Alfred’s baking, Bruce’s favorite carols playing in the background…  
  


Dick was looking at him strangely, almost fondly as he replied. “Actually, it’s Christmas. You were sleeping for more than a day.” More than a day? Jason stared incredulously at the older man, who seemed amused by his shock. “Merry Christmas.”   
  


He wasn’t sure what to say or how to respond, or even how he felt about the knowledge that everyone was probably downstairs and generally having a good time while he was upstairs restricted to this bed. There were three knocks on the door, followed by Bruce stepping into the room. Dick turned towards the door curiously, smiling in acknowledgement. “Hey. How was that shower?”  
  


“Good.” Bruce replied, arms loaded with presents of all sizes and shapes. Jason’s eyes met Bruce’s for a moment, confused at the subtle happy glint in the man’s eyes. What the hell was even going on? Maybe Jason had been hit a little too hard on the head and was imagining this whole scenario. Which seemed highly likely because he was seeing a large sized Christmas tree in the corner of the room.  _‘When did that get there?’_  He squinted at the blinking lights and glimmering ornaments.  
  


Dick got up to help Bruce arrange the presents around the base of the tree. “You like it?” He asked, sliding the larger presents to the base. “It’s plastic but it looks really good right?”  
  


Shifting his glare at Dick, Jason directed his question towards him. “What the hell’s a Christmas tree doing in my…the bedroom?”  
  


Another knock on the door, followed by Damian’s loud voice. “We’ve brought the rest of the presents. Pennyworth and Cassandra will be up shortly with the refreshments. Move Grayson before I drop these on your head.”  
  


Jason stared with growing bewilderment as the entire family not only trooped in but made themselves at home around him. Before he knew it, he had had his pillows fluffed up, body propped up and a mug of apple cider pressing into his hands. “What the hell’s going on?” Jason wasn’t pleased at how confused he sounded because he had been aiming for pissed.  
  


Tim rolled his eyes, smiling as he did so. “Isn’t it obvious? We’re celebrating Christmas.”  
  


“You’re Jewish.” Jason pointed out, taking a long sip of the hot drink in his hands and sighed. He had missed this. There wasn’t anyone else in the world who could make apple cider like Alfred (except maybe Martha Kent). Even then, loyalty would compel him to say that Alfred’s was better. Tim grumbled something that made Dick  stick a candy cane in his mouth plus chiding about how a kid his age shouldn’t say words like that.   
  


He watched the pair bicker playfully before being silenced by Bruce tossing a parcel at each of them. “Clark dropped these off last night.” He told them, holding out a similarly wrapped parcel to Cassandra and Alfred. Damian caught his own with ease, fingers digging into the soft tissue wrapping before he tugged on the ribbon.  
  


An old familiar sense of bitterness, resentment and resignation filled him at the sight of the others tearing into his presents. It figured that everyone got something and he- Jason’s thoughts came to a screeching halt when Bruce walked over to him, holding a dull red colored parcel in both hands. “For you.” He smiled faintly as he handed the present over.  
  


For a moment he stared at the present in his lap, blinking as he tried to will the lump out of his throat. Titus sniffed the ribbon in his typical slow but interested fashion, nipping at the corner before tugging on it. Jason immediately tugged the ribbon back, pulling the paper off to reveal the thick sweater that Ma Kent had doubtlessly knitted herself.  
  


His was a dark blue color, as dark as the night sky, a snow flake motif knitted across the chest and around the wrists. It was similar to Dick’s, who had pulled on his olive green sweater and was busy showing it off to Tim. Tim was holding his own red sweater, taking a break from examining the elaborate cable knit pattern that had been weaving on the front. Cassandra had slipped hers on as well, the black and yellow cardigan suiting her well. Alfred was attempting to convince Damian to wear his bright red and green sweater, pointing to Bruce who was stoically sipping his hot cocoa and looking ridiculous because of the prancing reindeer’s motif that he was sporting.  
  


Jason eyed the cider dubiously, suspecting that he might have been drugged with some kind of hallucinogenics. Or maybe it was the pain medication… “We should get started on the presents right?” Tim asked, face flushed with excitement. There was a similar look on Dick’s face as they looked in askance to Alfred. The elderly man turned his eyes towards Bruce, who simply nodded. Immediately the pair bounced up to their feet, digging through the presents and handing them out to everyone in the room.  
  


Including him.  
  


It was more than a little bewildering to find more than a few presents being dropping into his lap. There had been no scenario where Jason had expected this. He had thought that once the mission was over he’d go back to his apartment, sleep till the next evening, buy some ready made meals for the next two days plus some peppermint candy from the nearest Starbucks before settling down to watch the Christmas specials that would come on.  
  


This, being stuck at the Mansion and being part of the celebrations, hadn’t ever been part of his calculations. He stared in confusion at the different boxes, poking a few before asking Dick. “What the hell? You guys got me presents?”  
  


Dick lightly punched his shoulder, placing yet another box into his hands. “Duh! I was gonna drag your ass here this year! It’s been too long since we’ve all celebrated Christmas together.”  
  


And that damn lump was back in his throat again. Jason stared at the brightly wrapped presents, actively avoiding the look that Dick and Bruce were giving him before gruffly replying. “You couldn’t drag a cat out into the street Dickie. What made you think you could drag me here?”  
  


Dick laughed, loud and merry as he ruffled Jason’s hand too hard and too long. “I’ve still got some moves that you haven’t seen Jay. Now come, start opening them!” 


	20. December 20: Socked (Batboys Gen)

Damian discreetly eyed the presents sitting underneath the Christmas tree, well aware of which boxes had been marked with tags bearing his name. He wouldn’t admit it aloud or to anyone else but he was quite eager to get to the festivities and see what kind of presents he had gotten.  
  


He really hoped that someone had actually listened to him and gotten him the games and music Cd’s that he had expressed an interest in. Tact, he had learned last year, was over rated when it came to implying what one wanted for a Christmas present.  
  


Clearly the better alternative was just to state the items that he would like to receive and spare himself the headache of wondering what kind of mortifying present his brothers had gotten him. And it still left him with the wonderful nervous excitement of whether or not he would get what he had requested (with some additions hopefully).   
  


It was a little difficult to stop himself from snapping at Drake to stop fawning over the present that that neanderthal from Smallville had sent but Damian managed - mostly by biting down on his tongue. What was so fascinating about a damn mug that had ‘World’s Best Robin’ painted on it in a childish script was beyond his understanding. Clearly Drake didn’t have a shred of taste or class in his entire body, as clearly evidenced by the fact that he insisted on not only keeping contact with tat big lug but also considered him his best friend.  
  


“It’s Dami’s turn!” Grayson chirped, leaning underneath the tree as he pulled out three boxes. “Let’s start with these. Merry Christmas!”   
  


Todd and Drake looked up from their gifts, their eyes focused on him as he excitedly peeled the wrapping paper off. The size of the box, he had learned, didn’t mean a damn when living with three men who considered pranking to be an art form. Damian was still peeved about receiving a new nano music player that had been wrapped up in a box that had come up to his hip.   
  


But it seemed that this year, they had forgone the multiple boxes and mounds of tissue paper. Damian pushed the crinkled paper aside, eager to see his gift. He frowned when he realized what it was, not expecting that of all things. “Socks?” He asked, scowling as he pulled the cheerful and bright colored garments out.   
  


“Not just any socks!” Todd held up a finger, grinning evilly as he corrected him. “These light up with every step! I got you the special Christmas edition with the Christmas tree design.” Damian glared at the older man who grinned back unabashed and waved the remaining two presents. “Check the other two out too!”  
  


With a small shake of the head at the Christmas present that he wasn’t sure how to catalog (would it be more horrifying, mortifying or just distasteful? He’d have to look into it), Damian tore at the snowflake motif wrapping paper. He had to squeeze his eyes shut and count to ten when he saw another pair of socks, these ones having a reindeer with a red nose prancing around them. “The nose lights up.” Drake explained with an evil grin.  
  


If two of the three presents were these infernal, ugly sucks then it wouldn’t be a stretch of the imagination that the third would be the same. Damian leveled Grayson with a deadpan look, not amused by how amused he was by him not being amused. “Gingerbread men. Aren’t they cute?”  
  


It took everything he had in him to stop from tossing the horrendous socks at each of the men’s head. That and the fact that his Father stepped forward to pull out a box of his own before handing it over to him. “Merry Christmas.” He smiled lightly as Damian accepted it.   
  


There was a voice in his head warning him to be careful because the present that he had received could very well be another prank. But since when had his Father indulged in such childish and immature acts? Soothed by his own logic, Damian pulled the top off the box and stared with horror at the sweater that he had just revealed. The smiley reindeer was bad enough but the bright red glittery nose made him want to slam the lid down and toss the monstrosity into the fireplace.   
  


“I hope it fits.” Bruce commented, face blank as ever before. But there was a suspicious glint in his eyes that made Damian wonder since when did his father have such a juvenile sense of humor. “Could you please wear it and let me see if my guess was correct.”  
  


Damian’s entire body twitched, jerked at the thought of having to put on the bright blue sweater. He was certain that his father was right. There was little chance that he was wrong in the first place. “I’m certain that it’s of my size.”   
  


“Humor me.” There was that damned twinkle again. God he hated whoever it was that had convinced his father to join his ‘brothers’ in their damned pranks. He cursed them inside his head in three different languages, being creative as Dick often told him to be and mixing several phrases together as he pulled the sweater up in front of him.  
  


He had pulled the damned thing over his head when he realized that Grayson was holding a camera up and rapidly taking pictures. “This one’s for the family albums!” He crowed. Damian made a note to burn the camera and make sure that the memory disk was melted. And in case that was not successful, he was going to sprinkle Grayson’s uniform with itching powder. 


	21. December 21: Jasmine Vanilla (TimKon)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The prompt was technically candlelight but it was a lil too tough for me so...candles.

What could you get the man who could pretty much afford anything that he wanted, and then some? Kon had decided, candles. Some nice scented candles that boasted the ability of inspiring ‘sexy self confidence’, something that he felt that Tim was in dire need of.   
  


He couldn’t really understand why Tim didn’t get it. Because Tim was smart, handsome, had a hot bod, funny (when he wanted to be), thoughtful (in a really sneaky way)…had he mentioned hot?  
  


So yeah, he just couldn’t understand why Tim would be so heart breakingly shy about his body and about himself. Kon suspected that it might be because of the scars. Or it could just be a simple nervousness that came out of being a virgin who was quickly moving into the deeper and untested waters of a relationship. Or Tim was just being a complete cock tease. It was a slim possibility but it was there.  
  


But candles. He had decided on some lovely scented candles because everything else was either out of his prince range or something that Tim already owned or worse, sold out by the time he had gone to buy it. And as he watched Tim tear the wrapping off, he hoped that Tim would like them. “Candles?” His boyfriend asked with a small degree of confusion. “And…massage oil…”  
  


As anticipated, Tim seemed a little confused by the present. Until he read the label and the description printed on the packaging. His ears immediately turned pink, contrasting sweetly with his normally pale skin and the deliberately unamused glint in his blue eyes. “What?” Kon asked with faux innocence, holding his hands up defensively. “I thought you liked scented candles and massages! Didn’t you say that they helped you relax after a long patrol?”  
  


Tim mumbled and grumbled under his breath, generally agreeing with the statement which was incentive enough for Kon to scoot over next to his boyfriend and throw an arm over his shoulders. “Plus….” Kon began, nuzzling Tim’s ear, hiding his smile into Tim’s hair as the ears went from pink to red, the flush spreading over to the pale cheeks. “I thought that it might help you feel more sexy.”  
  


It was gratifying that when he gave Tim’s shoulder a squeeze, his boyfriend merely mumbled something under his breath about meta’s who took a whole mile when offered a stupid inch instead of just getting up and walking away. “Want me to light one up right now?” Kon offered, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.  
  


 _That_  made Tim gave him a dry glare before wriggling out of Kon’s grasp. To say that he was a little disappointed wouldn’t have been incorrect but he wasn’t all together too surprised either. Even though they had been going out for 3 months, Tim was still a little shy and hesitant when it come to physical contact between them. Cuddling was one thing but anything that was even borderline sexual made Tim more skittish than  a frightened colt.   
  


So while he was disappointed just a little bit, he wasn’t too surprised and let Tim wander over to the tree to pull out another present. Kon just leaned back against the sofa, admiring the manner in which Tim’s hair fell over his face to brush against his cheekbones. His elbow pressed into the soft cushion, sinking in as Kon propped his head against his fist and smiled. “Maybe later.” Tim’s mumble made him jerk, dislodging the elbow from it’s position and nearly making him slip down and hit his face against the sofa.   
  


It took him a moment to remember that opening his mouth and moving his lips would help him speak the words that would be his reply to Tim’s shy offer. “C-cool! Yeah, later!”


	22. December 22: Father Son Bonding (Bruce and Damian)

Standing side by side, father and son stared at the two large balls of snow that they had stacked on top of each other. “Why are we doing this again?” Damian asked, rolling the carrot between his mittened hands before looking up in askance to his father.  
  


Similarly, Bruce was rolling a few stones in his hands as he replied, “Because it’s fun.” Too bad that his voice didn’t seem to imply the fact that he was having fun. It sounded more like a question than a statement because he had to admit that he wasn’t find it as much fun as he found it awkward. Damian wasn’t sure of the point of what they were doing and didn’t have much of an idea of what a snowman would look like while Bruce….Bruce just wasn’t sure how to act around his son.  
  


He wanted to say that it was the good kind of awkward where he felt happy despite how stiff the atmosphere was but it felt…strained. Which wasn’t a surprise considering that neither of them had been completely willing to leave the warm study that they had quietly been co-habitating in favor of coming out into the cold. But Dick had practically dragged them outside, saying that they needed some father-son bonding and had run off to find Alfred’s old camera.   
  


“What am I supposed to do with this?” Damian asked, staring at the carrot.  
  


Bruce pointed at the body of the snowman with a stone. “You’re supposed to put it in it’s face. The top half is his face.” He stepped forward to scoop some of the snow out for the tennis ball eyes that were weighing his jacket down. “First we’re going to put in the eyes…”  
  


“Eyes?” Damian asked dubiously. “If we’re going to use a carrot for this thing’s nose, then what are it’s eyes going to be? Tomatoes? Cherries?”   
  


It was the mental image that came from the suggestion that made Bruce snort in amusement. “No. We’re not going to use any more fruits or vegetables!” He pulled out the tennis balls, handing them over to Damian. “These are going to be it’s eyes. We’re going to use stones to make it’s mouth and then wrap some clothes around it.”  
  


Damian stared at the ball, rolling it over in his hands before leaning up to carefully stick one into the small hole that Bruce had made. “Do we have any clothes large enough to fit this thing? No one is that fat from our family.” He helped Damian scoop out some more snow before screwing in the tennis ball tightly into place.  
  


“We’ve got this scarf and old hat. Plus this broom…” Bruce toed the items with his boot before handing several pebbles over to Damian, stepping to the side so that Damian had clear access to the snowman’s face. “What kind of face should he be making.”  
  


Damian’s eyes narrowed in consideration, contemplating the question with far more seriousness than anyone else would have. “A smile?” He finally asked, looking up at Bruce yet again for reassurance. Bruce simply nodded, handing the stones to Damian and watching him carefully arrange them into a U shaped smile that made the snowman seem highly comical.  
  


Once Damian had put in the last stone, he patted the smile into place as Bruce placed the hat at a jaunty angle on top of the snowball before helping Damian wrap the bright green scarf around the snowman’s ‘neck’. It was only when they were debating on where to stick the broom in that they both heard the click. They turned as one towards the whirring noise, watching Dick quickly raise the camera back up to eye level as he declared, “Say cheese!”  
  


The bright flash made Bruce flinch and Damian curse under his breath. “How long have you been standing there?” He asked his eldest, hoping that it hadn’t been too long.  
  


But the smirk on Dick’s face told him not to hope for that. “Since you started putting the tennis balls in. Scooch closer to the snowman, I wanna get a picture of you two together with it.”


	23. December 23: Thoroughly Pickled (BruceDick, TimKon, sort of Damian -> Cassandra, Jason)

It was an odd moment in his life when he stood next to his third son’s boyfriend and watched not only his lover but also his son’s stagger around drunkely trying to pick a fight with various people and objects that they happened to bump into. Conner’s lips were pressed together in a way that either implied that he was angry or very very amused. Bruce assumed that it was amusement because Tim was trying to pour some more spiked egg nog into his tiny cup but kept missing.  
  


“You don’t like egg nog?” Conner asked in a polite yet wary attempt at conversation.   
  


Bruce shook his head, sipping at the cider that the meta had brought along with him. “I know that it gets spiked every year so I avoid it. Or I have it very early on in the evening.”  
  


“Smart.” Conner praised, voice trembling with humor as Tim declared his cup to be broken and fumbled for another before beginning the slow process all over again. “Oh man how much alcohol was in that egg nog.”  
  


He shouldn’t sound amused himself but it had been a good day, great year and an excellent Christmas so he felt quite mellowed. Perhaps it was a side effect of that half glass of egg nog he had in the start. “Enough. Jason and Dick both spike it without knowing that the either will pour alcohol into it so the end result is quiet potent.”  
  


It was almost amusing how vaguely jumpy the meta was around him. Bruce was tempted to tease him further but Dick was staggering up to him, face flushed a healthy pink. His lover fell against his side, grumbling as he did so. “Your son is a mean drunk!”  
  


Damian immediately yelled back from his corner, looking rather pink himself as Cassandra delicately pinched his hair. His son twitched, turning a little bit more pink as the girl stared at him. She looked a little inebriated herself come to think off… It was also amusing how Damian seemed so at ease around the girl. At least there was someone else besides Dick who the boy was opening up towards.  
  


“Why is he a mean drunk?” He asked distractedly, watching Kon walk over to help Tim. The meta gently pried the cup out of Tim’s hand, directing him over towards the couch before moving to get him a bottle of water. Bruce wasn’t ever going to admit it out loud (unless he was possibly under duress) but Conner seemed to not only appreciate Tim but also genuinely cared for the boy - something that he felt Tim needed more of.  
  


Dick hadn’t noticed that Bruce’s mind was elsewhere as he began to babble. “Damian’s being mean to me and not letting me hug him! I just wanna take one picture with him fer Alfred’s Christmas album but he’s just stickin’ to Cass like she’s…she’s…” He waved a hand, stumbling as Bruce began to lead them over to the empty love seat. “Honey or something!”  
  


Bruce wasn’t sure where that particular comparison came from. Maybe it was the fact that Cassandra was wearing a black and yellow stripped cardigan. Or maybe Dick was thinking about flies and honey, which wasn’t a flattering description for Damian. He decided to keep that one to himself as he helped Dick sit down. “He doesn’t love me anymore!” Dick whined piteously, scrunching up into a ball before leaning over the sofa arm.  
  


If Damian was the mean drunk and Tim the boisterous one, then Dick was definitely the sad one. Jason was the strangely melancholic one, go figure because he always had thought that Tim would be the person to nurse his drink in the corner by the window, staring broodily out into the dark night.  
  


“Do you still love me Bruce?” Dick’s question brought him back to his lover, peering back into his teary blue eyes. Bruce smiled, breathing out in amusement as he sat down next to Dick and let him crawl into his lap. The man clung to him like a child, burrowing his face into his sweater before sighing and mumbling that he hated egg nog and that he wasn’t going to spike it next year.   
  


Like he hadn’t heard that one before. 


	24. December 24: Peaceful Sight (Batfam)

Bruce rolled his shoulders tiredly, wondering just how stiff they were going to be when he woke up. Maybe he could avoid them all together if he could get a warm towel on them in time. At least it was warmer upstairs in the mansion than it was downstairs in the Cave, a tiny blessing that he took for granted far too often.  
  


He quietly pushed the grandfather clock back into place, padding away towards the staircase in the hopes of catching some shut up before Christmas morning would rise and the house would be filled with all manners of activities. As he passed by the TV room, he paused for a moment to admire the twinkling lights. The green and red lights seemed magical, adding to the general atmosphere as the firewood crackled sleepily in the hearth.   
  


Ready to head back upstairs, he paused at the familiar sound that came from the sofa. Bruce walked into the room, raising an eyebrow in confusion when he heard a spring creak and somebody sigh.  
  


The first thing that he caught sight of was several pairs of socked feet sticking out from underneath a bunch of blankets and afghans. Another few steps and he stood behind the cream colored sofa, peering down at his brood as they slept together in one big pile. It was incredible. If anyone would have asked him, he would have said that it wasn’t possible to stick all 5 of them in one tiny sofa bed but there they were, snuggled up against each other as cozy and content as a litter of kittens.  
  


Jason was using his own hand as a pillow, curling up around Dick who was cuddling Damian close to him. The boy had his face pressed into Cassandra’s clavicle, one arm lazily draped over her waist and Tim’s arm. Tim’s arm was being used as a pillow by the dark haired girl, the teen himself snoring lightly in a way that created an off-beat pattern thanks to Dick and Jason’s light snoring.  
  


Bruce smiled to himself, walking around the corner to adjust the blankets over his children’s feet. No sense in them waking up with cold feet once the fire was going to die down. As though aware of Bruce’s thoughts, the fire crackled once again in a lazy friendly manner that turned the man’s attention towards the fireplace. He picked up the poker, stroking the fire before tossing in a few more logs. That ought to keep it burning till at least the early morning.  
  


For a moment he stood at the foot of the small bed and wondered. How had they all managed to fall asleep together like this? Since when had the sofa been a pull out bed? When had Jason and Cassandra come in? How had his family become so large? Was it okay to feel proud and happy of each and every one of his children?  
  


Jason suddenly sighed, rolling over on his back. The motion sparked a ripple of movement in the ocean of blankets, making everyone change their positions before settling back down into peaceful sleep. Bruce smiled, amused at how quiet and peaceful they all were. It was all the more amusing to know that later in the day they all would be arguing and bantering with each other in a manner that would be a complete opposite to their current position.   
  


“Bruce?” The quiet murmur made Bruce look over at Tim, watching him blink sleepily up at him. “What happened?”  
  


“Nothing.” He replied, shaking his head slightly. “Go back to sleep. There’s plenty of time till morning comes.” Tim stared at him for a moment before going back down to sink into the pillow that he was sharing with Cassandra and sighed. “Good night Tim.”  
  


“G’night.” Tim mumbled. “Merry Christmas.”  
  


With a fond smile, Bruce wished that he could have come up early enough to join their group but instead brought the ottoman over in front of his own chair. Pulling the afghan off it’s back, Bruce wrapped it around himself before settling down for a few hours of sleep. “Merry Christmas.” He murmured back, wanting his last sight of the day to be this peaceful sight before him.


	25. December 25: Cold December Night (Batfam)

“Couldn’t sleep?” Tim asked Cassandra, sitting down next to her on the sofa. The girl nodded quietly, leaning against his shoulder. She was perched on top of the sofa arm like dainty bird, staring out the window at the snow that was falling outside. Tim leaned back into the soft seat, watching the serene view before asking. “Do you want a blanket?”  
  


“No.” She replied quietly, tugging the afghan around her shoulders a little tighter. “I’m fine. The fire is keeping me warm.” Tim looked at the fireplace, staring at the flames as they crackled merrily over the logs. They didn’t look like they had been burning for long, meaning that Cassandra had only recently come into the room. “It’s pretty tonight.”  
  


Tim looked up at Cassandra, unable to see her full expression from his seated position but it was enough to realize that she was talking either about their Christmas tree or the snow. Either way, she was right. “Yes it is.” Tim replied, feeling peaceful and drowsy as he watched the snowflakes dance around each other. The one night of the year where Bruce would practically force them all to take an early night and none of them could manage to sleep.  
  


With an amused little smile at the clock displaying the time, Tim wondered how long it would be before Dick would wander down. Interestingly, it was Damian who wandered into the room with a glass of water in hand and a confused expression on his face. “What are you doing?” He asked, looking at Tim and then Cassandra.  
  


“Watching the snow.” The girl replied, getting off her seat before she pulled Tim off as well. Without a word, Tim helped her pull the sofa out into a bed before returning to his previous position. In his new, more comfortable position, his view was restricted to the fireplace but it was just as soothing and relaxing as watching the snow fall. And oddly warmer as well. Cassandra waved at Damian, gesturing upstairs. “Go get your blanket. And get Dick.”  
  


There was a clear moment where Damian seemed ready to argue with the girl, Tim didn’t have to get up and see his face to know that either. He just knew Damian well enough to expect him to argue back and expect an explanation but the world was filled with surprises. He sat up in minor shock when he heard Damian walk away without a word. “How did you do that?” Tim asked Cassandra suspiciously, tapping her hip curiously. “And can you teach me?”  
  


She laughed, soft but clear as she sat down next to him, wriggling her toes towards the fireplace. “Do you want him to like you?” Cassandra’s dark eyes were black in the poorly lit room but the amusement in them was clear as day.  
  


Tim stared at her for a moment before pointing at her and then back in the direction that Damian had gone. “He…to you? Really?” That…oddly wasn’t all that surprising. Vaguely disconcerting yes but not all together too surprising. “Huh… Good luck with that. And no, I don’t think I’d be comfortable with that.”  
  


“Comfortable with what?” Jason asked, leaning over the back of the sofa to eye the cozy looking pair.  
  


They both blinked up, not surprised at the interruption. “Damian having a crush on me.” Tim replied immediately, scooting over along with Cassandra to make room for Jason. The man stared down at them, frowning slightly as he clearly wondered if Tim was pulling his leg or not.  
  


But he seemed to decide that Tim was telling the truth. “The brat’s got a crush on you? He’s sure got a weird way of showing it.”  
  


With an amused snort, Tim corrected the man. “Not me. He’s crushing on Cass. I’d just be extremely uncomfortable if I was in her position.” The girl gave him an amused look before offering Jason part of her afghan.  
  


Jason waved the offer away, unfurling his own quilt before sitting down at the far corner of the bed. “Uncomfortable’s the nice way of putting it. But if anyone can deal with it, it’s gotta be you.”   
  


“Deal with what?” Dick chirped from the doorway. “Gangway!” He declared, leaping over the sofa to land nimbly in the middle of the sofa bed. The springs creaked ominously, the occupants yelping in surprise as the acrobat quickly wriggled up against Jason under his warm quilt. “What are we talking about?”  
  


“About you and how you can’t be normal!” Jason complained immediately. “Get your cold hands off me before I cut them off! Get this jerk away from me before I kill him!”

Damian stood at the foot of the tiny mattress, his uncertainty painted over his face when he asked. “What are you doing now?”  
  


Dick stopped trying to steal Jason’s quilt from him, tucking his dark sheets around him before replying. “Cuddling! C’mon, there’s some room here.”  
  


“But why?” Damian asked, frowning heavily.  Dick’s patience however had clearly run out because he crawled to the other end and began to tug on Damian’s sleeping pants. “Stop that, Grayson! Do not think that I won’t kick you to stop you.”  
  


“Stop being a grinch and get in here!” Dick complained back, wrapping an arm around Damian’s legs to pull him down. The boy yelped as he fell into Dick’s arms and found himself being dragged into the pile.  
  


Jason pulled up Damian’s blanket with his toes before handing it over to Dick. “Technically wouldn’t he be like a humbug?”  
  


“I can see him being a Scrooge.” Tim offered, smirking at the angry grumblings that Damian was letting out and just how quickly they dissolved into silence when he realized that he was right next to Cassandra. Once Damian had quietened down, the others eventually began quiet as well. They leaned into each other, watching the Christmas tree lights bounce off the various knick knacks placed on the mantelpiece or the fire blazing merrily in front of them. Tim sighed, low and quiet, feeling more and more sleepily as the seconds ticked by. “What time izzit?”  
  


His head began to nod slightly, pressing into Cassandra’s shoulder as Dick replied, “20 past 11. Time always seems to go by slower on Christmas Eve.” There were sleepily murmurs of agreement from everyone, including Tim. “I wonder why…”  
  


Jason shifted, making the bed shift and the springs creak painfully. “Probably because it’s the one night where we’re stuck in bed trying to sleep when we can’t.” Dick snorted in quiet amusement, wriggling down until his head hit the pillow. “Time always goes by slower when you can’t really sleep.”  
  


“That is true.” Damian agreed quietly. “It seems to stretch on forever.” His soft words trailed away, disappearing into a comfortable silence as they all watched the fire with a growing sense of lethargy. It was easy to tell that they all were growing sleepy. There was the obvious lack of conversation but there was also the clear sounds of everyone’s breath deepening.  
  


Tim felt his eyelids grow more and more heavy, just like his head as it used Cassandra for a pillow. “Hope Bruce comes home soon.” He whispered out in an exhale, hoping that he would sleep all the way till morning and not his usual 5 hours. The last thing he heard was Dick’s murmured agreement before he drifted off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that’s a wrap.
> 
> Happy Holidays everybody <3 
> 
> Thank you for reading


End file.
